Beneath the Veil

  Unconcerned, Daelyn scooped a spoonful of humberry jam and clotted cream onto another scone and devoured it, then washed it down with a swig of hot tea. He wiped the crumbs from his face with a napkin made of cloth finer than my clothes.

  "Really, Vermonte? How interesting. Did the poetry house owner fly into a tizzy and beat all his follies?"

  "I heard he near to killed one," said Penryn. "She refused to throw a handful of manure on it when he ordered her to."

  This caught Daelyn's attention. "No."

  "I heard the same, my prince." Freet helped himself to a scone. "He ordered all the follies to throw manure on the poster, Daelyn. When one did not, he beat her with a length of stove wood until blood came from her ears and they had to call a medicus."

  Daelyn got up from the table. "A man who treated his dog so poorly would be punished."

  "It’s not your fault." Lir took Daelyn by the hand to lead him back to the table. "You can't control what people do."

  Daelyn cocked an eyebrow. "Really? I thought that was exactly what I did."

  He turned to me. "Tell me, Aeris. If your folly refused to do what you wished, would you beat her until she nearly died?"

  I paused in clearing away another set of dirty plates. I thought hard before I answered and made certain to keep my voice as neutral as I could. "A dead folly is of no use to the household, my prince."

  "And that's your reason for not half killing her?"

  I ventured to meet his gaze. "It’s as good a reason as any."

  "You're being unfair to the lad." Moravian stretched his legs, clad in loose silk trousers, and nodded toward me. "He's not old enough to afford a woman of his own yet."

  Daelyn waved his hand. "Afford, aye. There's a question. If women cost more than dogs, would their masters treat them better?"

  "Women do cost more than dogs." Vermonte laughed snidely. The emphasis he put on the word "women" gave it a much harsher connotation than Daelyn had. "Dogs don't eat as much, and they don't wear clothes. Dogs earn their keep."

  "A woman works harder than any dog," I mumbled.

  Vermonte turned to me, surprise twisting his features. "What's that, lad?"

  "He said a woman works harder than any dog."

  I wasn't grateful for Lir's input, and I glared at him. He just stared at me. Vermonte made a chuffing noise of disapproval.

  "Ballsy lad, isn't he? Where'd you find this one, Dae? Fernken Province?"

  The other men laughed. Fernken was the poorest of all the four. Men there were rumored to take their pleasure with women, rather than each other.

  "No, I found him at a joba stand in the market district." Daelyn motioned for me to refill his teacup.

  Vermonte sneered. "And now he's working for you. Well, he's doing a folly's job, 'tis no wonder he's sympathetic to their plight."

  My hands clenched on the teapot so hard the lid rattled. Vermonte must have seen the blaze of anger in my eyes, because he smiled indulgently. When he held out his own cup, I fought not to pour the steaming liquid straight to his crotch.

  "This is the lad who went up against Fearnly and Haverford." Daelyn's voice had gone smooth and velvety. Husky. "He bloodied them well, Vermonte. You'd do well not to provoke him."

  Vermonte's look said he didn't believe a word the prince was saying. "You can't tell me you think this lad could beat me?"

  Silence, while every man in the room turned to stare at me. I looked each in the eye. The only one who looked away was Lir.

  "Mayhaps we should find out?" Daelyn licked a few stray crumbs from his lips and gave him a sly glance. "Vermonte, what say you? Think you can trounce my fetchencarry?"

  "Without doubt. But it hardly seems fair."

  I swallowed hard. A man's pride was built upon his accomplishments in the arts, in business, in the hunt...and in the fight. Vermonte was a man who looked to be very proud, while I...I was in over my head and struggling to breathe.

  "It seems to me you should let the lad decide." Again, Lir spoke in my defense, and I hated him for it.

  "I'm not afraid!"

  "You're a bad liar, Aeris." Lir stood and appealed to Daelyn. "Dae, you brought the lad here to serve in the chamber, not to serve in the fight field."

  Dae smirked. "Part of his job is to amuse me, isn't it? It will amuse me to watch him fight Vermonte."

  "You don't have to do it, Aeris."

  I glared at Lir. "If my prince wishes me to compete, I will."

  "He doesn't want you to compete," Lir said in disgust. "He wants to watch you get beaten bloody for his amusement."

  He stalked from the room. Daelyn stared after him with narrowed eyes. "Lir seems to have gotten up facing the wrong wall today."

  "Every day." Vermonte laughed.

  Daelyn didn't like that. "You've never cared for Lir."

  Vermonte gave Daelyn an ingratiating smile. "He and I will never be brothers of the heart."

  "Well said. And no reason you should be, other than it vexes me to have my mates at each other's throats." Daelyn didn't seem to see the irony in his statement, as he'd just commanded me to fight Vermonte. I supposed I didn't count as one of his mates.

  Vermonte gave me a bored look. "Should we be off to the fight field, then?"

  "If it pleases my prince," I replied evenly with a glance at Daelyn for approval. Already my blood seemed to course faster in my veins.

  Daelyn and the lords, minus Lir, led the way to the enclosed fight field in the White Palace's center courtyard. Raised stands held seating for spectators on festival days, but today the only audience was a bored-looking tabby cat.

  Daelyn and his friends took shaded, comfortable seats and called for drinks. When the serving follies had disappeared, Daelyn raised his glass to us.

  "Have at it! Fair fight!"

  That was it. No advice, no rules, no suggested fight style. It was to be a free-for-all, and my grin spread wide across my face at the thought. Daelyn knew my strengths lay in street fighting, not the more formal styles. He was rooting for me, however subtly.

  Vermonte was bigger than I, but I'd never faced a foe who wasn't. I was confident I had speed and the element of surprise on my side. What I couldn't quite figure out was the prince's reasoning. Why make me fight his comrade? Mere amusement didn't seem reason enough. Perhaps I had displeased him, but then why favor me in the fight?

  "Are you going to stand there all day with your mouth hanging open, or are you going to come at me?" Vermonte made a show of buffing his nails on his tunic.

  I didn't bother with conversation. I just jumped at him. Hitting Vermonte was like hitting a stone wall. Seemingly without effort he lifted his arm as I charged, and his hand caught me squarely in the shoulder. I whirled and went down onto the soft dirt of the fight field.

  His mocking laughter made my ears burn. Worse was the tittering and guffawing of Daelyn and his men. I got to my feet with my shoulder and my pride severely bruised.

  "Ready to give?" Vermonte grinned.

  "My prince bade me fight you. And what my prince wishes, I'll try to provide."

  Vermonte gave me a falsely sympathetic grin. "I am also loyal to my prince, and he's bade me fight you, and win."

  "Then it’s clear only one of us can give him what he needs."

  Vermonte licked his lips and put up his hands in the First Strike position. "You do have balls, I'll grant you that."

  I'm certain he couldn't comprehend why his statement made me burst into laughter, but it did take him off guard. This time when I leaped at him I avoided his outstretched hands and managed to get in a blow to his stomach that doubled him over. When he was bent, I hit the back of his neck with the side of my hand. I pivoted on my heel and sent up a spray of dirt, then kicked out and caught Vermonte's thigh.

  He was fast, though, and trained. He grabbed my foot as it kicked, and twisted it. My body curved and I lost my balance. Again, I found myself in the dirt, this time breathless and on my back.

  His face twisted, he bent so lo
w I could smell the dirt beneath his perfume. As he punched downward, I rolled. I got to my feet in a move so swift it surprised even me. With a one-two kick punch combination, I hit him in the chest and jaw and knocked him back. He didn't fall and faltered for but a moment before launching himself forward again.

  Fighting in the street, I'd been fueled by anger. Now, I had only the need to please Daelyn and keep myself from suffering too much injury. My muscles and old bruises protested as I whirled and dodged and attacked, but I grinned the whole while, loving the rush of blood in my veins.

  Vermonte didn't seem to enjoy the fight as much as I did. He puffed and blew and cursed, even though 'twas clear he was winning. He got in more blows, and stronger ones, because he was bigger and stronger and had the advantage of skill. But after those first two times, he couldn't knock me to the ground.

  "You're like a weasel," he growled when another strike to my head hadn't felled me. "Sinder's Arrow, you just won't quit!"

  I took a chance and looked toward the stands. Sweat stung my eyes and I swiped it away, only to be disappointed by the sight of Daelyn fanning himself, a bored look stamped on his face. He wasn't even paying attention.

  "Finish him," he called when he saw we'd stopped. He didn't make it clear whom he meant.

  As it was, even if he'd meant me, I had no chance. Vermonte had grown tired of the fight. He drew his rapier. He cut the fabric of my tunic from just beneath my bound breasts to the waistband of my trousers. Barely pausing, he nicked my earlobe and cast another cut upon the back of my left hand.

  Without another word, Vermonte sheathed his blade and stalked back to the accolades of his peers. Me, I clutched my ruined clothes and watched my blood spatter in the dirt. The pain of my wounds couldn't compete with my pain at the injustice of what he'd done.

  Daelyn and his friends left me there without a backward glance. I bled some more, and cursed a lot, and pretended I hadn't been foolish enough to try and win the praise of a man who cared less for me than he would a prize hound.

  "Hurts, doesn't it?"

  I lifted my head to face Lir. "I've had worse."

  "Not the cuts. Him leaving."

  I pulled the shreds of my tunic closer about me and started off the field. "What would you know about it?"

  Lir's arm was long enough to reach out and catch me before I could get away. I sagged in his grip, head lowered, fists clenching handfuls of my tunic over my bared stomach.

  "You think he's never left me like that? Teased me into doing something I didn't really want to do, and then left me?"

  I looked up at him. "No. I don't."

  Lir let go of my shoulder. "Well, he has, more times than I can count. I've known Dae since we were children. Compassion for other people isn't necessarily one of his strengths."

  This subtle criticism interested me. "So why, then, do you remain his friend?"

  We walked together, side by side. Lir didn't make me feel small, though he stood over me by a good six inches. He didn't touch me, but I felt his touch just the same.

  "He's got a way..." Lir chuckled. "A way of making people love him."

  I thought of how the prince's touch had made me wish for a lover when I'd never wanted one before. "Do you?"

  "Love him?" Lir pushed open the gate of the fight field. "I think he is my closest friend, and despite how it may seem sometimes, I know I’m his. I'd gladly die for him."

  Beyond the gate, the courtyard bustled with midday activity. Smooth paved stone walkways led one way to the kitchens and stables, the other to the palace rooms and Daelyn's chambers. I made to turn to the right, but Lir took my elbow.

  "What Vermonte did to you was ungentlemanly."

  "He wanted to win."

  "Your eagerness can't make up for the fact you haven't been trained. You've a fair skill for fist fighting, even without the positions, but you were unarmed. By drawing his blade on you to end the fight, he violated the ethics of competition fighting."

  My neck felt sticky from the drying blood from my earlobe. "Daelyn didn't seem to care."

  Lir snorted. "He was bored and ready to leave. He'd not have cared had you jumped on Vermonte's head and bludgeoned him with a club, had it meant the fight was over."

  We stared at each other with the bustle and flow of palace activity around us. For once, he wasn't smirking. His dark eyes were serious. He nodded toward the stables.

  "Come with me."

  I was still wary of him, even with this new kindness. "Where?"

  He grinned. "I'm going to teach you how to use a sword."

  Chapter Ten

  The weapons room impressed me into silence. Rows of gleaming blades lined the walls. Shields and spears rested in special racks. Helmets and armor hung from pegs or nestled in drawers.

  Among the shining cleanliness, I felt even grubbier. I knotted the pieces of my tunic together to make sure they didn't flap open to expose my chest, but could do little about the blood. Lir snapped at the boy polishing a row of flat swords.

  "Ichabod, get a basin with water and soap and some bandages. And a fresh tunic from the storeroom. It won't be as fine as what you're wearing," he said to me. "But it will keep you covered."

  Ichabod, a small boy with his hair bound in twin braids that curled on the ends, nodded and ran from the room. Lir pointed at the wall of weapons. "Choose one."

  My hands itched to try the thin, deadly blade of a rapier. "That one."

  Lir nodded. "It's lightweight, but fierce. Like you."

  Startled, I looked to see if he were mocking me. "You think me fierce?"

  "Fierce and foolish," Lir said. "But I think I can train you out of the latter."

  I should have known he'd be back to insulting me. I fingered the polished metal grip of one of the rapiers and gave him my back. I couldn't explain why I wanted to cry. I didn't like Lir, and I didn't care what he thought of me.

  "You don't have to train me at all."

  "Aeris, we don't need to be at odds with each other." Lir's gentle voice did nothing to make me feel better. His hand fell on my shoulder, and I went as stiff as a board beneath his touch. "I can help you, if you let me."

  "I don't need your pity."

  I threw off his hand and didn't wait to hear his reply. I pushed past a startled Ichabod and fled down the stone walkway. Past the kitchens, past the entrances to court and the palace's public spaces. My breath came sharp in my lungs as I ran up the curving stone stairs toward Daelyn's chambers...but when the corridor twisted to the left, I ran to the right. Up another set of stairs I'd never seen, I followed the curves of the hall until I found the entrance to a small, secluded balcony.

  Panting, I sank to the balcony's floor and rested against its low wall. I drew my knees to my chest and fought to slow my breathing. My head pounded. I scrubbed at the dried blood on my hands until it flaked away. At last, I rested my face in my crossed arms and began to calm myself.

  What was I doing here? Not on the balcony, but at the White Palace? What good purpose could I possibly serve?

  "I should’ve run away." Spoken aloud, the words sounded as foolish as Lir claimed me to be. I had no coin, no place to go, and only the skills my uncle had paid for me to learn. I couldn't even engage myself to a lover who'd pay for my keep.

  Even the destitute can only weep for so long before they have no more tears. I had no idea how much time had passed, only that Daelyn was certain to have missed me by now, if only because I wasn't there to serve him. I'd witnessed how quickly and sharply his moods could change. I shuddered to think of facing his ire. I scrubbed at my face and got to my feet. Just as I went to the archway leading from the balcony to the corridor, I heard voices coming closer. I drew back.

  "I've already formed a special group of guards to monitor the poetry houses." Lord Rosten's grating voice reverberated in the narrow hall. "We'll put a stop to this rabble rousing, by force if necessary."

  I recognized Simelbon's voice. "This sickness can't be allowed to infect the whole of Alyri
a. Already I've heard some places in the outer provinces are allowing their women the right to shorten the kedalya! Helps them to work in the fields, they say, as if the follies' comfort matters! Intolerable to allow this sort of laxity."

  "I'll have permission to control the provinces soon enough. And from there, it’s but an easy ride to capture more control in the city itself. This would-be revolution couldn't have come at a better time. Prince Daelyn is too wrapped up in his fashions and gaming to pay attention to what's been going on. If we play our cards right, we'll soon be ruling Alyria in everything but name."